October 20th

Hermione slept more soundly than she had in years. There was something about a satisfying kill that was relaxing. Many times in the course of completing her duties for the regime and when she was completing her own missions, she'd experienced the peace that could come with ridding herself of a pesky problem. Rita Skeeter would never bother her again. Not with an article full of lies or even a regret in her conscience. Though she hadn't gone to the Daily Prophet offices with her murder in mind, she couldn't resist the opportunity to exact her revenge when it presented itself. Besides, it prevented her from having to face the indignities of Albert Runcorn's further touching of her body. He would be a problem later, she was certain, but she wasn't worried. She'd faced more formidable opponents and conquered them.

When she emerged from her comfortable room in The Three Broomsticks, she made her way to the main room of the establishment. In a repeat of the day before, one of Madam Rosmerta's employees placed a heavy breakfast in front of her with that morning's edition of the wizarding newspaper next to her plate. Hermione could hardly wait to see what was written about the tragic death of their most prolific reporters.

One glance at the front page and she burst out in loud laughter that surely annoyed some of the other patrons. It was just too comical! A memorial for the wretched woman took up most of the available print space. The picture that accompanied the article was at least forty years old. Even in her younger years, the bitch had embarrassing fashion sense. She giggled all through the article. It was still amusing. Likely she would always laugh when she thought about slamming her shoe down on the beetle in Albert's office. What an ignoble way to go! A fleeting thought that she would come to regret her actions tried to take hold in her mind without success. She probably wouldn't.

No mention was made of just how the horrible woman was killed. Only that she was dead and the rest of the country should be in mourning. No doubt Rodolphus was the one behind keeping Hermione's name out of the paper. She didn't understand the power and influence he had, but couldn't deny that it was impressive. Because of the dissolution of the agreement she was in the process of making with Albert, she expected all future editions to be filled with more articles proclaiming her insane or some other such rubbish. Linking her to the murder of the reporter would've been too much for Rodolphus' mysterious plans for her.

Alecto Carrow was the author of the memorial article lauding Rita Skeeter for her many decades of prize-winning journalism. The ridiculousness of it all made Hermione laugh more. Probably elated at the chance to earn a promotion, Alecto wasn't mourning the death of her co-worker. She was looking to see what she could salvage for herself. She'd always been a selfish cunt. But, as one of Rodolphus' first supporters, she would likely have some influence in the coming changes to the country. If she lived through them, of course.

The Wizengamot of Rodolphus' fantasies was going to be a disgusting farce if cretins like Alecto had a seat. Just because Alecto had the right blood status and the right last name didn't mean that she should just automatically be given preferential treatment and the chance to make actual decisions that would affect them all. Why was her opinion considered more valuable simply because her family was a Sacred Twenty-Eight family?

Hermione considered the names on the list Draco had given her earlier in the month. There was a discernible pattern. Rodolphus was trying to get a representative from all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families still in existence. Though it would take some research to find members from the female line on some of the families because the male line had died out, the vast majority of the families still had members. Some of them were even prominent citizens. It would explain why Rodolphus tried to recruit Thorfinn to his side and why his father-in-law was on the list. Aubin considered himself more Fawley than anything else. She imagined that in exchange for his assistance, Rodolphus would allow the horrible man to keep his mother's maiden name and the family's seat. That was, of course, before it was known how close he was to murdering Hermione. Renegotiations would likely need to be made.

Shacklebolt was a Sacred Twenty-Eight family. Did that mean that Kingsley had been approached too? She couldn't imagine that Rodolphus would just ignore the fact that there was still at least one Shacklebolt alive. He was the sort to want to possess an entire set. If he found Kingsley and tried to persuade him to join, it would make sense that Kingsley would encourage her to find out what Rodolphus' plan was before deciding it wasn't worth pursuing. She needed to share what she knew with Antonin. He would know what to do next.

"I heard a rumor you were staying here. It's a bit exposed, wouldn't you say, pet?"

Few sounds were less welcome than Rabastan Lestrange's voice. Hermione willed herself to remain calm as the wizard took a seat next to her at the table. They hadn't crossed paths since the night his daughter pushed a suit of armor on her son and he announced to Antonin that she'd terminated her pregnancies. If it was up to her, she would've gladly gone the rest of her life without speaking to him again. But, as annoyed as she was, she was determined to play the game.

"Rodolphus has already made it clear that he doesn't want to hurt me and seeing as how he's tasked Draco with tracking me, what's the use in hiding?"

Rabastan's laughter was an even less welcome sound than his voice. It bothered her tremendously. Deciding to feel him out and ask about Rodolphus' plan to fill the newly formed Wizengamot with members of the Pureblood Elite, she explained her theory about the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. When she asked if she was correct, all he did was smile. That was the only proof she needed.

"Is that why Corban Yaxley was attacked and his son was urged to come home?"

"The young are ever so much easier to influence than the older generations, are they not? I can't imagine there would ever be a situation where Corban would work against his best mate Antonin. But, put the young wizard's mother in danger and prove that it could easily be done again? Well, let's just say that young Mr. Yaxley is all too willing to assist Rodolphus."

It felt strange to be around someone who actually seemed willing to give her information. Maybe it was all lies, but somehow she didn't get the impression that Rabastan was lying. She needed to get as much knowledge as she could about the plans. When she next saw Antonin, she needed to tell him everything she could.

"What about the families that no longer exist? I assume that Narcissa Malfoy will represent the Blacks?"

"Yes, which means Draco must somehow manage to produce two heirs. Rodolphus has been encouraging him to marry as soon as possible."

She didn't want to consider the fact that Draco was being pushed into marriage because she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"Will Millicent Nott be a part?"

Rabastan laughed as if she'd just told him the funniest joke he'd ever heard. She didn't understand. Millicent Nott was the mother of Theo's three daughters. One of them would need to represent the Nott family, would they not?

"No, Millie has made it perfectly clear that she's not interested. Her brother will represent the Bulstrodes and Rosalind Nott will represent the Nott family until her son is old enough."

Hermione wasn't sure she heard him correctly.

"Her son?"

"Ahh, yes, you've been out of the loop while you were hiding away. Mrs. Nott is pregnant and all spells indicate it's a boy. Isn't that wonderful?"

"How? You and I both know Theodore was unable to consummate their marriage."

His smile made her sick to her stomach. Was there truly no end to his disgusting acts?

"The Notts and the Lestranges have many similar features thanks to our intertwining family trees."

"Rabastan, please tell me you didn't."

"No one will ever know the truth. Three people alive know that the newlyweds were unable to seal their union. Rosalind won't tell because she'll lose all claim to her new and vast inheritance. You won't tell because you know she'll be Knut-less in the streets and somewhere underneath that cold exterior you still have too much compassion for the downtrodden. And I certainly won't tell. My supreme sense of moral obligation would compel me to provide for the child financially and I already have too many children."

As disgusted as she was by the knowledge that Rosalind Nott was carrying Rabastan's child, she wasn't surprised. Not in the slightest. It even made an odd sort of sense to her especially after discovering at least some of the purpose of the Lestrange brothers' plans.

"Out of gratitude for protecting her from Nott and for getting rid of her parents, she all but threw herself at me. Pretty young woman, but awfully clingy. I remember now why I don't like to bed virgins. Almost makes me miss Rachel. That was her name, wasn't it?"

"You are disgusting, Rabastan."

"Perhaps, but I don't recall that ever bothering you before."

His wink made her hate herself even more for what she'd allowed him to do to her in the past. How could there have ever been a time that she willingly suffered the feel of his touch? She couldn't even blame the potions. Not at first. It was only after they'd been alone several times that he offered her her first vial. She'd only had herself to blame for how it all began. And, even under the influence of her potions, she still only went to him because she wanted to. It was disgusting what she'd lowered herself to in order to forget the worst of her fears or to get more power and influence. She was tempted to climb in a shower with a steel brush and never get out. Not until all of her skin was scraped off her body and swirling down the drain.

"Now I must congratulate you on your performance yesterday at the Daily Prophet. Our Allie will never thank you for what you did on principle, but I know she's grateful that you got her competition out of the way."

"Yes, because everything I did yesterday was simply to make Alecto happy. I love her so much, you know."

He laughed at her sarcasm, but said nothing else. Satisfied that he'd said whatever it was he wished to say to her, Rabastan rose to his feet to take his leave. Before he leaned down to kiss her he urged her to be cautious. She was making enemies everywhere. The moment his lips lifted off of her cheek, he whispered in her ear.

"If you ever dare to threaten my children again, I don't give a damn what Roddy says, I will find you and I will make you bleed for weeks."

She didn't have to wonder if he was sincere in his threats or not. She knew he was. No longer feeling the least bit hungry, Hermione stood up from the table and returned to her room. It was important that she write down everything she'd learned so far to keep from forgetting it. When she was ready, she was going to track Antonin down again. Maybe whatever was going on between them was still unsettled, but he was still the only person she knew she could trust without question.